


From the Beginning (For the Very Last Time)

by fallingintodivinity



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Romance, Self-cest, fix-it (of sorts), full spoilers for Into the Spider-Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 00:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingintodivinity/pseuds/fallingintodivinity
Summary: When Peter B. Parker finally manages to get back to his own universe, the last thing he’s expecting is to find a blond, blue-eyed version of himself occupying the same universe.





	From the Beginning (For the Very Last Time)

**Author's Note:**

> Set right after the end of _Into the Spider-Verse_.

 

“Oof!” Peter B. Parker grunts as he lands face-first on something soft and cool. From next to him, there’s a shocked yelp and a hurried scrambling sound, rapidly followed by a loud _thump_.

Peter raises himself up on both elbows and blinks a few times, looking around dazedly. The last thing he remembers was falling though the portal that was supposed to bring him home – wait. _Home!_ He shakes his head to try to clear the lingering fog around his brain, then takes a closer look at his surroundings.

The soft, cool thing he’s lying on is his bed – in _his_ universe! – still dotted with pizza crumbs from the pizza he’d been eating just before he’d gotten sucked into the dimensional portal and ended up in Miles’s universe. In fact – he raises his head a little more and spots the pizza box, complete with a single remaining slice of dried-out pizza in it. The slice looks like it’s at least a week old. It also _smells_ like it’s at least a week old.

“Gross,” Peter mutters, and shoves the box off the bed.

“Ow!” shouts the box when it lands on the floor.

Peter jumps in shock then leaps to his feet – which, _ow_ , _really_ bad idea, because his head’s still swimming from falling through the portal and he’s still feeling dizzy and kind of exhausted. He promptly loses his balance, staggers around drunkenly on the mattress then tips right off the side.

The floor that he lands on is softer than he expected, and also unexpectedly _warm_. It also makes a protesting groan when Peter lands on it. Peter flinches and hurriedly scrambles around so he’s braced on both arms, palms on the floor, and staring down at – the startled face of a young man with wide blue eyes and a shock of disheveled blond hair falling over his forehead. The flattened pizza box is crushed between both their chests – _oh right_ , Peter thinks distantly, _I dropped the pizza box on him_ – and they’re lined up from hip to ankle, Peter pressing the younger man into the floor.

Peter blinks.

“Hi,” says the blond man. He smiles weakly at Peter. “Aren’t you at least going to buy me dinner first?”

“Oh, god,” says Peter. He quickly rolls off the other man and gets to his feet, extending a hand to help the stranger to his feet. “I am _so_ sorry.”

The blond man starts to sit up, then stops abruptly and flinches hard, pressing a hand to his chest. And – now that Peter’s paying attention, he can see the blood seeping slowly though the stranger’s blue T-shirt, turning the fabric a darker color.

“Oh, god,” he says again. “Are you okay?” He leans down to grip the man’s arm, starting in surprise as a jolt runs through him at the contact, spider-senses tingling up from his fingers and radiating throughout his entire body. His companion looks equally startled, blinking those huge blue eyes up at him even as he bites his lip, wincing in pain as he gets slowly to his feet, Peter supporting him with an arm around his waist.

“Should we get you to a hospital?” Peter asks as he helps the blond to sit on the edge of his bed.

The stranger considers this, then shakes his head. “I’ll be fine,” he says. “Just need to get these bandaged and rest up a bit.” He waves his hand at his chest vaguely.

For all that Peter’s let various things in his life – his relationships, his duties as Spider-Man, his health – hell, pretty much his entire _life_ , to be depressingly honest – slide into disrepair, he’s still got a fully-stocked first aid kit under his bathroom counter, because life as Spider-Man generally involves acquiring, and then patching up, an extensive variety of cuts, scrapes and bruises. He leaves his companion sitting on his bed, then goes to the bathroom to get his first aid kit.

When he gets back to the bedroom, the blond man’s pulled his shirt up to expose his chest and flat stomach, and is poking morosely at the two long cuts spanning virtually his entire chest and still bleeding sluggishly, surrounded almost completely by a ring of nasty-looking bruises. Peter stops in his tracks for a moment, mouth falling open, because _damn_. Even dotted liberally with bruises, the guy’s abs are a thing of beauty.

The younger man looks up at him and seems to mistake Peter’s expression for concern, because he says quickly, “hey, don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Er,” says Peter, immediately feeling guilty, because this man needs his help and he’s just standing there ogling the poor guy. “You sure? Any broken ribs? Does it hurt when you take a deep breath?”

The blond shakes his head. “I don’t think my ribs are broken.” He obligingly lifts his arms out of the way as Peter winds a broad roll of gauze around his wounds, then neatly tapes the whole thing up. “Thanks. Hey, you’re pretty good at this.”

“And you’ve probably guessed just _why_ I’m good at first aid,” Peter says wryly, putting the tape down and sitting heavily down on the bed next to his companion. “So, I’m pretty sure I know the answer to this already, but…who are you and what are you doing in my bedroom?”

“My name,” says the blond, turning to face Peter, “is Peter Parker. I’m, er, guessing yours is, too.” He looks Peter up and down slowly, and even though it’s a purely clinical look, curiosity and no judgement in his direct gaze, Peter suddenly feels ashamed of his five-day-old stubble, disheveled hair and not-completely-flat tummy in the face of the other man’s beauty. He fights the urge to turn away.

“You’re from Miles’s universe,” he says instead.

“Miles?” says other-Peter, puzzled.

“Oh. Right. I guess you two never had time for proper introductions. The kid you gave the goober to?”

Other-Peter looks confused. “How’d you even know about that?” He doesn’t ask about the term ‘goober’, so Peter assumes other-Peter uses the same term, and the thought makes him laugh a little.

“It’s kind of a long story,” he says wryly. He stands, offering other-Peter a hand. “Want something to drink while we talk? I think I’ve got a little bit of instant coffee left in the kitchen.”

 

***

 

“So in my universe, I’m dead,” other-Peter says calmly, taking a sip of his coffee. He doesn’t seem surprised, which seems kind of weird to Peter.

“Yeah,” Peter says hesitantly. “You, er, kind of seem like you were _expecting_ that…?”

“My last memory, before waking up here, was of lying helpless on the ground with Kingpin standing over me,” other-Peter says with a wry twist of his mouth. “Wasn’t expecting anything good to come out of _that_ situation, that’s for sure.”

Peter nods, acknowledging the point.

“I’m not sure how I ended up _here_ while dying in my original universe,” other-Peter adds thoughtfully. “But it’s probably some inconsistency that got created in the space-time continuum when Kingpin opened those dimensional portals…huh. So, I wonder, if I’m dead over there…”

“…when you get back to your original universe – ” says Peter, eyes widening in horror.

“ – will I instantly die to eliminate the inconsistency?” finishes other-Peter. They both grimace at the thought.

There’s a brief, gloomy silence.

“Well,” Peter says hesitantly. “I’m pretty sure Miles destroyed the collider, so I have no idea how we’re going to get you home, anyway.” He runs a hand through his hair, frowning. “I’m so sorry. We’ll figure something out, I promise. In the meantime, you can stay with me, of course.” He looks around at his messy living room, pizza crusts under the coffee table and an inch of dust on the window sills, and feels his cheeks heat with a flush of shame. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Hey.” Other-Peter rests a gentle hand on Peter’s arm, and Peter turns to face him. “Not only did I manage to find someone else who’s got powers like me, but he also patched me up and gave me a place to stay, no questions asked. You shouldn’t be apologizing. I should be thanking you.”

“You’re a fellow Spider-Man,” Peter says, feeling unaccountably embarrassed. “It’s the least I could do.”

Other-Peter smiles at him, sweet and sincere, and Peter has to look away before he says or does something he shouldn’t. “Oh,” he says, a thought occurring to him. He turns back to face other-Peter. “What should I call you? I’ve been calling you other-Peter in my head, but I’ve just realized that that’s kind of weird.”

“Other-Peter?” the other man says, eyes bright with mirth. “Well, I guess in this universe, I am the ‘other’, so – ”

“That’s not what I meant,” Peter says hurriedly, but other-Peter waves his protests away, chuckling.

“Pete is fine,” he says.

 

***

 

The following week, Peter breaks into his universe’s Kingpin’s research facility, firmly forbidding Pete from coming with him since he’s still recuperating from his injuries. Peter’s universe’s Kingpin, though, hasn’t lost his wife and son, so he never developed plans for a particle accelerator to bring together alternate dimensions the way Pete and Miles’s Kingpin had.

Over the next few weeks, Peter breaks into the lairs of pretty much all the supervillains in his universe, but no matter who he tries, nobody’s done any alternate-universe-portal research. Which he should be grateful for, honestly, since god knows they don’t need someone trying to open up a black hole under Brooklyn _again_ – but he can’t help feeling bad about going back to Pete empty-handed.

“It’s fine,” Pete assures him when he delivers the bad news. “Please don’t feel bad. I didn’t even do anything to help, you were the one doing all the work.” He looks a little embarrassed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to impose on you a little longer though, in that case.”

“You’re not imposing,” Peter says quickly. “Stay as long as you want to. I mean it.”

Pete starts looking at Empire State University brochures the next day. He’d been a graduate student there in his universe, studying Chemical Engineering, he tells Peter, saying that he might as well enroll there again to continue his PhD, since it was looking more and more likely that he’d be in Peter’s universe for a while.

“My stipend isn’t much, but I can use it to pay you rent,” he adds. “Or I’ll find a new place to rent – I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re really welcome to stay with me for as long as you want,” Peter says. He looks around his messy living room, grinning wryly. “It’s not like I was using the space for anything, anyway.”

Pete laughs, pushing aside a pile of Peter’s clothes that he’d left on the couch, to make room for both of them to sit down. “Yeah, alright.”

 

***

 

It’s really kind of nice, Peter realizes, having someone to come home to. He hasn’t been in a serious relationship since he broke up with MJ, and, well, him and Pete aren’t _together_ or anything like that – nevermind what Peter wishes, Pete is _way_ out of his league – but they get along well, and having a roommate has made Peter more conscious about not looking like a complete slob, so his apartment has gotten much neater as well.

They’ve set up an airbed in the living room for Pete to sleep on, and while Peter’s still not letting Pete pay him rent – the guy’s in the wrong _universe_ , for crying out loud; he hadn’t even had a bank account until a month ago – but after enduring weeks of complaining from Pete about feeling like a freeloader, he _is_ letting the younger man pay for groceries and other essentials.

That evening, Pete comes with Peter on patrol for the first time. His injuries from his fight with his universe’s Kingpin have fully healed, and while he’d spent his downtime working on improving his and Peter’s Spider-Man costumes, he’s clearly itching to get back out in the field, so to speak.

Peter finds that they work well together: almost an extension of each other, they’re so in sync – which makes sense, thinks Peter, since they’re basically the same person from different universes.

He’s been trying not to think about that last part, honestly, because after getting to know Pete better, they’ve grown closer and he’s been falling even harder for the younger man; for his enthusiasm and unfailing optimism and the way he always makes Peter laugh. They’re alike, yes, but also different enough that it doesn’t feel _too_ weird that he’s crushing on alterna-him.

A few months into their joint patrols, they hurry to a narrow alleyway that their joint spider-senses tell them is the scene of an attempted rape, only to find that someone else has beaten them to it. A tall, broad, alien… _thing_ with shiny black skin and long, sharp teeth the length of Peter’s hand has the terrified would-be rapist pinned up against the alley wall with one hand, snarling at him. There’s a young woman, sobbing but unhurt, on the ground beside them.

Both men blink at the scene. Peter cautiously moves to the alien’s side, ready to leap into action if need be, but the alien seems to have the situation fully under control. He glances to the side, gaze softening as he fondly watches Pete help the young woman up and gently lead her back toward the well-lit street, talking to her in a low, soothing tone.

When he turns back to face the alien, the would-be rapist is now a corpse on the ground – one that’s missing its head. The alien is licking its lips. Peter gapes at it. He hears Pete, who’s apparently made it back after helping the victim to the police station across the street, gasp behind him.

“Did you just…” he gestures at the headless corpse. “Er.”

“Yes,” the alien tells him gleefully. It has a deep voice which sounds distinctly male, although Peter isn’t sure whether this alien actually has a gender. He makes a mental note to do some research on it later. Without any warning, the alien proceeds to dematerialize, leaving a slightly disheveled thirtysomething man in its place.

“I have a parasite,” the man says in an explanatory manner.

“Not a parasite!” snaps the alien, briefly materializing.

“It’s a term of endearment, darling,” the man says placatingly.

The alien disappears with a huff.

“Er, okay?” says Peter.

“Who _are_ you?” Pete asks, eyeing the man with a mix of wariness and curiosity.

“I’m Eddie,” the man says conversationally.

The alien materializes over the left side of Eddie’s body again and grins unnervingly at them. “And we,” he says, “are Venom.”

“Nice to meet you,” Peter says warily.

“We are Spider-Man,” Pete adds helpfully.

“We know,” Venom says, then disappears again.

“I’ve seen you in the news. I didn’t know there were two of you, though,” Eddie says interestedly.

“There are now,” Peter tells him cheerfully. He looks down at the corpse and makes a face. “Ugh. Do you two…usually…do that?”

“Only to the really bad guys,” Eddie says and steps forward, almost tripping over the corpse Venom’d left.

“Careful,” Pete says, reaching out to steady their new acquaintance.

Quick as a flash, Venom materializes again, tendrils creeping over Eddie’s entire body and his head peeking over Eddie’s shoulders.

“Mine!” he hisses at Pete, who quickly jerks his hand back from where he’d been about to grasp Eddie’s arm. “Get your own!” For some reason, Venom then looks over at Peter. Peter frowns back at him questioningly, then glances at Pete, who is, inexplicably, blushing.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, looking from Pete to Peter curiously. “He’s a little possessive.” Venom grins at them smugly, sharp teeth clearly on display, then dematerializes back into Eddie’s body.

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you,” Eddie says, stepping carefully over the corpse and walking toward the mouth of the alleyway. “Have a good night, guys.”

“You too,” Peter calls after Eddie’s retreating back. He turns to Pete, who looks a little nervous, his cheeks still flushed a bright pink. “Hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Pete says quickly. He takes Peter’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

 

***

 

“It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one with these powers,” Pete says idly one Sunday morning, as they’re sprawled on the living room floor in front of the TV, sharing a large pepperoni pizza.

“Yeah, it is, right?” Peter smiles, pushing the pizza box over to Pete so he can have the last piece. “I’ll introduce you to Miles and Gwen and all the others one day. You’ll love them.”

“You talk about these kids a lot,” Pete says, looking over at him. “You must be very fond of them.” His lips are shiny with pizza grease and curved up in a soft smile. Peter wants to kiss those lips.

“Yeah,” he says, and clears his throat. “They’re great kids.”

Pete pushes the pizza box back over. “Here, the last piece’s for you.”

Peter waves him away. “Nah, I’ve got to stop eating so much. Have to get rid of this,” he says, poking at his stomach, a little self-conscious. “I’m going to work to get abs like yours,” he says, then blushes. “Er. Not that I’ve been. Looking. Or anything.”

Pete’s cheeks are pink, too, probably from mortification at what a horribly embarrassing friend Peter is. “I think you look good just as you are,” he says softly, then clears his throat nervously. “ _Really_ good,” he mutters, flush deepening.

“Yeah?” Peter says, breath catching in his throat. It almost sounds like Pete – like Pete wants to –

He licks his lips nervously. Next to him, Pete makes a small, strangled sound, then shifts a little closer.

“Peter…” he says.

“I don’t want you to go back to your universe,” Peter blurts out, staring down at the pizza box. They haven’t really found any leads on universe-hopping portals recently, but it’s always something they search for, whenever they fight any supervillain.

Gentle fingers cup his jaw, tilting his face up to look into serious blue eyes. “Then ask me to stay,” Pete whispers. “Stop searching for a way to send me back. Ask me to stay.”

Peter brings his hands up to cover Pete’s. “Stay,” he murmurs. “Please.”

Pete smiles at him, eyes bright. “Yes,” he says simply, and leans in to kiss Peter, soft and sweet.

 

***

 

Peter wakes up the next morning with Pete sprawled over him, both of them still naked and sweaty from the previous night’s exertions. He can’t remember the last time he felt this uncomplicatedly _happy_ , like he’s finally picked up all the shattered pieces that he’d let his life fall into, finally put everything back together into a whole he’s proud of again. He gently cards his fingers through the cornsilk of Pete’s hair, smiling down at the younger man as Pete stirs in his arms, blinking sleepily up at him.

“Good morning,” Peter says.

“Hey,” Pete says affectionately, tipping his head up for a kiss. His hand makes its way down Peter’s body, curling around his morning erection. Peter groans happily, arching up into his lover’s hand.

Both men freeze as Peter’s phone, sitting on its wireless charger on the bedside table, makes a series of loud whirs and clicks, before a female voice pipes up from the speaker, “hi! Peter, are you there? Can you hear me?”

Peter gapes at the phone. “… _Gwen?_ ”

“Peter, hi!” Gwen sounds delighted.

“Gwen – how – ”

“Hi, Peter!” pipes up another voice, male, this time.

“ _Miles?_ ”

“Yeah, it’s me! Hi! Gwen found a way for us to talk to each other!”

“Whoa. Guys. This is amazing!” Peter says, grinning happily. “How are you two, anyway?”

There’s a brief silence, then –

“Gwen asked me out!” Miles bursts out in a loud, elated stage whisper.

“Ha!” Peter crows delightedly. “I _knew_ it was going to happen eventually! I’m so happy for you, kiddo!”

“I’m _right here_ , guys.” Gwen’s trying to sound unimpressed, but Peter can _tell_ that she’s smiling.

Pete, who’s been eyeing the phone curiously during the whole exchange, raises a mischievous eyebrow at Peter, grins and does something with his hand that pulls a strangled sound from Peter’s throat, hips jerking.

“Did you say something?” Gwen asks. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Uh, no, no, it was nothing,” Peter says hurriedly, feeling himself blush hot.

“Nothing?” Pete says, and there’s a definite challenge in his eyes. Peter quickly grabs his arm before his lover can wring any more embarrassing noises out of him, rolling them over so that he’s on top of Pete, pinning him to the bed with both hands. Pete grins wickedly at him, rolling his hips up into Peter’s. Peter makes a choked noise.

“Oh! Is someone else there with you?” Miles asks curiously.

“Er, maybe we should…” Gwen clears her throat. “Um, Peter, are we…interrupting…something?”

“Interrupting?” Miles says blankly.

“ _Miles,_ ” Gwen hisses. “I think Peter’s… _busy_.”

Beneath Peter, Pete starts to laugh, whole body shaking with mirth.

“Oh!” says Miles, dawning realization in his voice. “Ohhhhh, right, _busy_.”

“We’re so sorry!” Gwen squeaks, sounding mortified. “We’ll call you back later – ”

“No, no, wait, don’t go,” Peter says quickly. “Actually…” He can’t stop grinning. “Oh boy, do I have a story to tell you.”

He sits up and pulls Pete with him, wrapping an arm around the younger man’s waist and pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of Pete’s jaw. “Okay, guys, all together now: from the beginning, for the very last time…”

“…my name is Peter Parker,” Pete says, blue eyes bright and smile wide and achingly beautiful, to the sound of identical loud gasps from Miles and Gwen. “I was bitten by a radioactive spider…”

 

End.

 


End file.
